Crabs that fly...

Island life is not all sunsets, snorkeling and skinny dipping (eh?) - 

quite often it's a running battle with irritating bits of nature - mossies, 

locusts, ants, spiders, unidentifiable crawlies, and recently 

with a creature that's never bothered us in the past - hermit crabs.

Suddenly, word has spread in the hermit crab community that our dogs'

bowls are the fashionable new place to dine.

The intrusion of the newcomers was announced a couple of days

ago with a shriek (not from the dogs). There were three of them in

 one bowl, another two trying to clamber up the step and another 

at the screen door scratching for admittance to the party.

Although they're fascinating little creatures, enough's enough.

Most are a bit bigger than a golf ball,  some cricket ball size.

I discovered that they make wonderful projectiles.

With a swing of the bamboo rake, like a lacrosse racket, I am able to 

achieve about 80-100 yards. The first couple flew into the sea, 

me assuming they were amphibious. Then doubts crept in and 

now any intruder finds itself gliding gracefully along the coast

at around 50mph to make a soft landing in deep bamboo grass.

Trouble is, they seem to be enjoying it, 

they keep coming back for more. 

Summer's Scorch

Early days of summer

followed by two months of unrelenting sun 

have singed the lawn crispy dry

Suntan anyone?

Mompa Magic

This wonderful 'umbrella' tree 

is officially called a Mompa.

In 2011 our favourite Mompa looked like this.

After being successively ravaged by 

the super-typhoons of  '12  it ended 

the year looking like an exotic hat 

rack.  

Things got worse. Branches cracked off; 

the remaining leaves fell, and it looked like 

we had a dead tree stump on our hands. 

A chainsaw seemed the only answer.

But nature doesn't give up that easily. 

Spring sprung a surprise - a tiny bud 

popped from a dead-looking bough. 

Then another. And another...

Now,  a bold new Mompa is springing forth. 

Ain't nature wonderful?

Hope the grandkids get to enjoy its shade.

Hot Seat

Coo! You're cute.

This loving couple seem to have cooed 

around here for ever. 

They are wood pigeons nesting somewhere in the garden 

and often keep me company while I work.

Here they are relaxing after a satisfying dust bath.

Oy! Buzz off!

Nasty shock last evening 

as I headed towards the recreational area.

Never seen such a monstrous lump of steel before.

I shudder to think what could have happened 

if I'd been out there swimming.

This rare occurrence could be something to do 

with avoiding a typhoon (T12) that's

been wandering around to the south for a week.

Let's hope they don't make a habit 

of filling our virgin horizons, 

or I'll be sending off a few sharp letters 

to major ship owners.

(How does one say 'Buzz off' in Greek?)

Blaze vs Beauty?

The sky performed some spectacular stunts 

in the wake of yesterday's tropical depression.

From monochrome to a palette of vivid colours.

I pontificate that, while the west side of the island 
gets the popular blaze of a sunset, we in the east 
enjoy a much more pleasant, reflected beauty.  

PS. An unfortunate camera angle revealed more

than intended.

These favorite work shoes , original crafted in a 

place called China in the Far, Far East allow 

evening breezes to slip soothingly between tired toes.

The stuff in the can plays a similar role on the throat.

Bloomin'  bush !

For several years the prickly, uncontrollable tentacles of some

unknown bush have  intruded along the top path. 

Repeated chopping and containment have done little good. 

And then, last week, in the midst of a long drought when all 

around is either dry or dying, beauty burst forth. 

It's a type of bougainvillea I've not seen before. 

Now I have to encourage it to spread.

THUNDERHEAD

I used to think a thunderhead was a bad hangover

until I learned a bit about coastal meteorology.

This mountainous mass slowly advanced towards 

my evening perch yesterday evening, a  rain curtain

dangling tantalizingly below.  

It hasn't rained here now for over 50 days, 

so the prospect of its arrival wasn't unwelcome. 

Disappointingly, it stopped short of the reef, 

but not before sending a couple of little fishing 

boats scurrying for cover.

I know she's in there!

We call him 'Kutsunashi san'.

It means 'Mr.No Shoes.'  

Like a man entering a mosque this

local farmer reverently discards his sandals each time

he sets forth into his sugar cane fields. 

With him goes his new puppy.

Mr.Kutsunashi has recently played an important role in our 

lives as his female pup has become the love of Duke's life.

No walk is now complete without a linger around 

Mr.Kutsunashi's sandals, 

redolent with the perfume of his girlfriend.

Sky ablaze!

August bursts in with this fiery dawn

while the moon casts a cold eye on the spectacle.